


Starbucks with a Reyes filter

by qwertysweetea



Series: Will doesn't get gutted AU [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail Hobbs Lives, Adopted Abigail Hobbs, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Daddy Issues, Family Issues, Gen, Hannibal is Hannibal, Murder Family, Post-Episode: s02e13 Mizumono, Social Media, Will just wants to be a dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 07:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12743364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwertysweetea/pseuds/qwertysweetea
Summary: The captions were short, sweet and sentimental. ‘What would I be without you?’ with her Reyes filtered Starbucks and ‘Papa should be a professional chef’ with flames billowing from a saucepan. False in exactly the way she needed, a reflection of a normal existence.Reyes filtered Starbucks. Lark filtered life.Sometimes, only sometimes, she spilled her heart out on the most ordinary picture on her feed and Hannibal doesn't think he's seen Will as full of paternal love as he does then.[AU: Will leaves with Hannibal and Abigail]





	Starbucks with a Reyes filter

Hannibal had warned Abigail how risky it was; he almost wanted to say silly, she reckoned, from the condescending look he gave, sighing in the listless way he always did around her.

He didn’t want to treat her like a child but sometimes it happened regardless of what he wanted. Sometime she needed to be spoken to like a child. Now, however, was not one of those times.

Again he repeated “Abigail, what you are doing is dangerous, not just to yourself but to Will and me also. You could reveal us.”

It was therapeutic, she justified. She was already a scarred, earless American in Europe with two dads, three dogs and the ever-building weight of paranoia; social media was the only element of a normal life she could create amongst the chaos in her head. Trust her, she wasn't as dumb as she looked.

Her Instagram account was the only thing that made her feel normal.

‘ablgrhamx’ – she couldn’t think of anything poetic that would fit with so few letters.

‘abbey graham’ stood out in place of ‘abigail hobbs’.

For Will it must have been in flashing lights for the look of pure, heartfelt pride when he saw it. She called him dad, and she’d made a habit of it without suggestion or question when they first stood in the airport some miles away from the bloodbath they had left behind them. An act, disguise… just another part of the false life they had created together that they were trying to make comfortable, but this was different. This was her own little slice of normality: one she created on her own terms. Her own life.

She hadn’t chosen to build from Emile Fell, as she was now known. Nor had she gone back to Abigail Hobbs. She hadn’t chosen something completely independent of either of the people she was or had been. She had chosen Abbey Graham.

If ever a look showed a heart full to the brim of paternal love it was Will in that moment.

He made a point of not looking at the rest.

“Are you not curious what she has to say?”

“I’m respecting her privacy, Hannibal. I know it might be a difficult concept for you to grasp.”

Never a face, not even a side profile. Never the two of their turned backs in the one shot together. No names, just ‘dad’ and ‘papa’ and ‘puppy’ used over and over for every image of every dog they owned.

Pictures of musty-looking library shelves and fogged over lakes, cobbled streets, the dogs, the stairs to his work building, the dining table nicely set out or sometimes just the food, fishing lures, her bedroom lit up with fairy-lights, more of the dogs, Will fishing – cut just so he was a pelvis and legs disappearing into the water, her scarves… so, so many of the dogs.

The captions were short, sweet and sentimental. ‘What would I be without you?’ with her Reyes filtered Starbucks and ‘Papa should be a professional chef’ with flames billowing from a saucepan. False in exactly the way she needed, a reflection of a normal existence; a life that always existed on a perfectly mundane level, without the trauma and blood-splatter.

Reyes filtered Starbucks. Lark filtered life.

Sometimes, only sometimes, she spilled her heart out on the most ordinary picture on her feed. A shot out her bedroom window, a cup a tea on her bedside table.

“Listen to this Will.”

“Give it a rest Hannibal.” He huffed, shifting himself up in his chair anyway, settling in to a long conversation.

“ _‘Legend has it that if you name your lure after someone you cherish and you catch a fish, then that person cherishes you too…’_ ”

Will listened, heart already sinking somewhere in his gut.

“ _‘Dad named his Abbey, but he didn’t need to catch the biggest of the season to know how much I love him.’_ ”

For once, Hannibal thought he might be wrong. Then… right then Will looked like his heart couldn’t be any more full with paternal love; his chest heaved and it welled up in his eyes. The only place it didn’t touch was the corners of his lips, the only place that gave away how much fear was sat behind it.

“How does that make you feel Will?” He asked with calm indifference.

Will stared off into the space beyond Hannibal, beyond the room, somewhere beyond himself; his eyes went glassy with everything in his mind before he brought himself back.

Eyes snapped to the other, lips twisted and nose scrunched. “You know exactly how that makes me feel.”

Hannibal waited patiently for him continue, as he always did.

“ _‘“Like father, like daughter”, what a sick joke.’_ Isn’t that what she says?”

“One-hundred and seventy letters isn’t enough to properly articulate how we see ourselves. Her description doesn't reflect her posts.”

“’Just because you killed my dad…’” He hissed out, whatever joy had previously lit up his face was slowly trickling off “‘…doesn’t mean you get to become him.’”

“That was a long time ago, Will. A different time in a different life. We’ve all changed, Abigail more so. Her affection seems genuine.”

“I’m scared it is.” He admitted as though it wasn’t already plastered across him.

“Why?”

Will wanted to say that he was scared of the responsibility as much as he’d longed for it, that he was terrified of letting her down… that, worst of all, she didn’t mean it. It was all a lie and Will knew it, Hannibal knew it, and Will knew that he knew.

“Because…” he started, trying to steady his voice “that means it’s too good to be true. And if it’s too good to be true then it probably is.”

“You’re worried I am going to take her away from you again.”

“I know you’re going to take her away from me again.” Will replied, the resignation painfully clear in his voice. “This can’t last forever Hannibal; a place was made for us in this world but it was never made to sustain us. There will come a time when you’re going to take her from me, and it’s going to be so much harder knowing I was the second dad she loved and trusted to let her down.”

Hannibal gave a little smile at that, soft and almost sad “Third” he corrected.

“I think you’ll find second place is reserved for those of us with an Instagram post, _Papa_.” He chuckled, all the sadness and fierceness heavy behind it.

“Maybe you should get social media too.” And just like that all the suspense and doom dispersed. “You can go around commenting on all her pictures and embarrass her in front of her online friends. Like a real parent.”

Will let a smile break on to his lips, small, still battling against all the emotions the other had managed to so easily discard. “Shut up and go heat up some leftovers.”


End file.
